


1923

by Zenn



Series: Eyes Full of Hope [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Howling Commandos, Captain America: The First Avenger Compliant, First Kiss, First Time, Howard Stark - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Meet-Cute, More like Sexual Innuendo, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sarah Rogers - Freeform, Sarah Rogers knows, brief mentions of, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 14:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13237599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenn/pseuds/Zenn
Summary: It's a dreary November afternoon when he gets down on one knee in front of Steve and professes his love to him; just like he had seen in the countless movies his mom loved to watch.He had spent the whole previous day looking for the perfect rock, because everybody says that to do it right ya gotta give 'em a big stone. He now holds the biggest, lumpiest rock he could find in his hand offering it to Steve.





	1923

The year is 1923, and Bucky Barnes falls for a boy with golden hair and eyes full of hope.

***

He is six when he first sees the boy with righteousness written in every feature of his small frame. It's a rather wet September morning, and Steve--Bucky thinks that's his name--lies under the big elm tree in the middle of the playground. One of the second-graders, a real tyrant by the name of Charlie Thompson, is standing over him. Mud cakes almost every inch of the golden-haired boy's body and blood pours out of his nose like a burst pipe, but Bucky doesn't think he has ever seen someone so stunningly gorgeous before.

In church, he is taught about angels and he thinks for a second that if there were angels on earth that this Steve kid would definitely be one. He has seen him before, in class and church, so he knows that they are similar in age. However, Steve is much smaller than a healthy boy of his age 'ought to be, making him a prime target for bullies like Charlie.

Steve struggles to gain solid footing with his skinny legs wobbling so much, but once he secures some semblance of maintaining a vertical position, his two hands are balled into fists and put up in front of him.

"Don't cha ever give up, Rogers?" The taller boy sneers at him.

Attempting to wipe some of the blood from his face, Steve replies, "Not to bullies like you." Charlie snickers at that and reels his fist back for another blow. Steve braces himself, closing his eyes even though he knows that that will only satisfy the other boy.

Steve hears the dull thud of a fist making its impact but strangely doesn't feel it. He wonders if, after a certain amount of punches, you just stop feeling the pain.

He opens his eyes to find slate-blue orbs staring at him with concern. The brown-haired boy that the eyes belong to is now occupying the space above him, right where the second-grader was just a moment ago. Steve peers over at the now crumpled up, crying heap that is Charlie Thompson and then back at the brunette whose eyes are roaming over his body.

"Where are you hurt?" Bucky asks, eyes still searching every part of the frail kid in front of him.

"I'd a thought that woulda been pretty obvious." Steve snarks, hand coming up to his still leaking nose. This gets an unexpected giggle out of the other boy.

"Bucky," he says holding out his hand in front of Steve.

Steve regards the hand warily, before bringing his gaze back to Bucky's grinning face. Squaring his shoulders, and adjusting his stance, he grasps Bucky's clammy hand and gives him the firmest shake his five-year-old hand can manage.

From then on out the pair of them are inseparable. Wherever Steve goes Bucky follows, and if you want Bucky you are undoubtedly going to get Steve as well.

***

It's a dreary November afternoon--barely three months since they first officially met--when he gets down on one knee in front of Steve and professes his love to him; just like he had seen in the countless movies his mom loved to watch.

He had spent the whole previous day looking for the perfect rock because everybody says that to do it right ya gotta give 'em a big stone. He now holds the biggest, lumpiest rock he could find in his hand offering it to Steve. Steve looks down at him and then to the rock in his hand, momentarily confused by these spontaneous confessions, but then Bucky says those words "Will You Marry Me?" and everything in Steve's little brain clicks into place.

They are five and six--barely old enough to tie their shoes--let alone have any concept of what marriage means, at least not truly. However, as soon as Bucky has uttered those four words, Steve knows he can only give one answer to the brunette kneeling in the dirt before him. Steve says yes.

Steve says yes, and Bucky looks at him like he has just hung the moon and the stars. Bucky looks at him like he is the only thing in the whole world that matters. Like he is the best thing to ever grace the earth with just his presence alone. Steve takes the rock from Bucky's palm and just like that they are husbands.

After finishing his successful proposal to Steve--which may or may not have ended with a small, clumsy kiss--Bucky races home to spill his guts out to his mother. His mom and little sister Becca are in the kitchen when he practically falls through the apartments' front door. He fumbles his way out of his boots, and excitedly bounds into the kitchen. He proudly recounts to his mother all about his proposal to the beautiful blond and blushes when he quietly adds the part about his first kiss.

His mother looks down from her baking with fond eyes and asks what the little girl's name is. At this Bucky shakes his head and says, "No momma, I proposed to Stevie." He watches in confusion as his mother's eyes get bigger at his confession.

Mr. Barnes, who has been sitting in the living room this whole time, beckons Bucky to come join him. When Bucky enters the living room, his father takes off his belt and teaches him about appropriate relationships.

His mother holds him as he weeps that night.

The next day before school has started Bucky tentatively approaches Steve and tells him that they have to get a divorce. Steve looks on the brink of tears at his words, so Bucky quickly repeats the lesson his father had taught him the previous afternoon about love, marriage, and proper relationships.

Steve's look of despair rapidly changes into one of indignation at what Bucky tells him. Steve grips the taller boy by the shirt collar and roughly pulls him into another clumsy kiss, although this time it is firmer and more prolonged than the one from the previous day. When both boys have pulled away, Bucky hastily scans the playground.

"I don't care what other people say, you proposed to me, that means I'm your husband now, so you're stuck with me forever James Barnes. That's just how it works." Steve proclaims, leaving no room for argument--not that Bucky would ever argue about his love for Steve.

And after that, there was no going back. Steve and Bucky learned how to steal kisses in the cover of dark, hold hands where no wandering eyes would see, and how to love so that nobody would know.

***

They have been _married_ for ten years the first time that they fumble their way into Steve's bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake.

Sarah Rogers was working the night shift at the hospital, and the boys had snuck off to a bar. Steve still doesn't know how, but Bucky had managed to charm their way in, despite Steve looking twelve and Bucky barely looking his age of sixteen. Although, when Steve thinks about it, he would be surprised if anyone _could_ resist Bucky's captivating smile and transfixing eyes.

As soon as they had gained entrance into the crowded place, Bucky was dragging Steve straight for the bar. Yet again putting on his charm, Bucky manages to get two beers out of the young lady with jet black hair and ruby colored lips who is bartending. He plucks the two brown bottles off the bartop and shoves one into Steve's chest, grabbing his arm again and hauling him into a quieter part of the bustling bar.

When they found themselves in a somewhat private corner of the bar, Bucky turns to him with a beaming smile. Steve still sometimes finds it hard to breathe properly whenever Bucky gives him his full attention with _that_ look on his face. Even now, ten years after meeting his Bucky, he finds his breath stuttering in his chest.

And the asshole knows! He knows exactly what he does to Steve, so when he hears Steve try to muffle his gasp, his smile morphs into a goofy grin. Steve punches his arm in retaliation, which just earns him a fond look.

"You know what today is, Stevie?" Bucky asks a little too loudly, trying to get his voice heard over the resounding music. Steve gives him a weird look, but it does nothing to discourage Bucky's enthusiasm. "Yeah, November 17th, why?" he says returning his gaze to the people on the dance floor.

Bucky elbows him in the ribs, not enough to hurt, but enough that Steve turns to him with an annoyed look on his face. "November 17th, 1933 to be exact." Bucky beams, still giving Steve that stupid grin--that Steve secretly loves, but he would never admit that to anyone, especially Bucky.

"It's also 8:37 on a Friday, Buck. 's your point?" Steve retorts, getting tired of whatever game Bucky is playing. Bucky's smile falters a little, "It's our anniversary punk!" He says, knocking into Steve with his elbow again. Steve takes a few moments to blink dumbly out at the crowd in the bar, before slowly turning his eyes to meet Buckys.

Bucky is giving him a shy smile, looking just as young as the day he had gotten down on his knee. "You big sap..." Steve tries to chide, but it comes out all wrong. He is silently choking on tears that he resiliently is not going to let fall, especially not here.

Steve, at times, still can't wrap his brain around the fact that Bucky has chosen _him_ , Bucky had proposed to _him_ , Bucky is _his_ and he  _is_ Buckys. And when Bucky looks at him like he is all that is pure and good in the world, his resolve crumbles a little.

The sharp  _clink_ of glass brings him back to the present, and he looks up again to see Bucky studying him with his 'Is Steve about to have an asthma attack?' look.

"You feeling all right, Stevie? We can go." Bucky murmurs, voice filled with concern. Bucky goes to put down his bottle and put on his jacket to leave. "No!" Steve exclaims, making Bucky almost drop his glass. "I just...you remembered." Bucky's concern melts away and his fond smile returns. "Who's the sap now pal?" Bucky was delighted when that earned him another adorable glare from Steve.

"To us," Bucky says raising his beer, dopey grin back in full force now.

"To us." Steve agrees, bringing his beer up to clink against Buckys.

And that is how they ended up winding their way through back alleys of Brooklyn, hand in hand, and high on each other. Bucky's hormone-induced teenage mind was made all the fuzzier by the two beers he had managed to drain before the owner had kicked them out. Steve had only made it through the one, but due to his smaller size was almost as buzzed as Bucky. Their slight intoxication leads to a lack of judgment, which results in Bucky delaying their journey every few blocks to passionately make-out with Steve.

When they finally stumble their way into the tiny apartment, Bucky is on Steve in a flash, pressing him into the wall. He is all messy kisses and breathy promises pressed against Steve's neck.

"Iwachu" Bucky mumbles as he moves his mouth to attack Steve's collar bone.

"Wh-what?" Steve responds, voice too shrill and breathless; distracted by Bucky's hot mouth and unrelenting tongue.

"I," Bucky leans in to nip Steve's collar bone eliciting a yip out of him, "want," another nip, "you." His voice is huskier than normal, and when he looks up at Steve his eyes are black and filled with lust.

Steve takes a moment to appreciate this new side of Bucky; from the flush of his cheeks, to the sweat beading at his hairline, and eventually back to his dilated pupils. "You look beautiful like this," Steve confesses looking directly into Bucky's eyes.

"You like what you see, Stevie?" Bucky rasps, attempting to tuck Steve's unruly hair behind his ear.

"You know that I do, Buck."

"Prove it," Bucky prompts, eyes glinting with mischief.

So Steve, never one to back down from a challenge, takes Bucky's hand into his own and does just that.

***

 _Sssssssssssssssssssssssss BOOOOM!!! Pop..pop..pop pop_.

Two Brooklyn boys lie hand in hand on the rooftop of their apartment, luminous fireworks exploding across the sky overhead. Bucky admires the way Steve's eyes sparkle with delight in the dark, as his face is painted with bursts of blues, reds, silvers, and golds.

Without turning his gaze away from the sky Steve asks, "Remember when you used to tell me that all of this was especially for me?"

"Remember when you believed me?" Bucky retorts, still not tearing his doting gaze from Steve's captivating eyes. This earns him a barely there laugh, more of a release of air than anything else.

Bucky waits a couple minutes, not wanting to break the peaceful silence again, but he's been planning this for a while so... here goes nothing.

"So, I was talking to your mom yesterday..." Bucky trails off, trying to work up some semblance of courage.

Steve turns to look at him, and he instantly regrets taking away Steve's enjoyment of the fireworks. Too late now though, he's already started so might as well just go for it.

"Wow, this was a lot easier the first time," he mutters to himself.

"Buck, 's the matter?" Steve questions, concern etched into the features of his face. He shifts to sit up and looks at Bucky inquisitively.

"I was talking to Sarah, and well--shit, okay," Bucky unlaces his hand from Steve's and moves onto one knee, "she gave me her blessing."

Steve is openly staring at him now, very slowly as if talking to a child he asks, "Gave you her blessing for what exactly?"

"Steven Grant Rogers, will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my husband?"

Steve was expecting a lot of things today like a lovely day lazing around with the love of his life, his favorite dinner of lasagna, and maybe if he was lucky some cake. The last one he knew was pushing it, due to the fact money was tight, but a guy can dream, right?

Steve also wasn't expecting numerous things that had happened throughout the day. For example he wasn't expecting to be woken this morning with feverous kisses pressed into every inch of his skin, nor was he prepared for the mint condition set of colored pencils and new sketch pad that was presented by his mother over breakfast, nor was he ready for the picnic that Bucky had set up on the roof of his apartment building. Most of all, Steve wasn't prepared for the emotional tidal wave that crashed into him when his Bucky got down on one knee--for the second time in his young life--to propose.

Steve is trying his damnedest not to cry--and he is succeeding quite well thank you very much--and then Bucky pulls a ring out of his pants pocket; he doesn't last long after that. His vision quickly blurs by the waterfall of tears pouring down his face, as hiccupping giggles erupt from his mouth.

"Is...is that a no?"

For all the compliments he is given about his confidence, charisma, and charm when you truly get to know Bucky Barnes he is the most insecure boy this side of the Mississippi. Steve should know, he's the one who has to wait for forty-five minutes every time they go out--so that Bucky can get his hair right.

"We're already married, Jerk!" Steve says shakily, voice filled with the teary emotion that is evident on his face.

"Yeah, but I had to do it properly," he states, gesturing with the ring in hand.

Upon closer inspection Steve recognizes it as his mother's silver band, that she hadn't once taken off in the eighteen years of Steve's life. Noticing Steve's shock at exactly which ring he has in his hand, Bucky hastily adds,

"She insisted that I save up our money for the future, and she was more than happy to pass down both of their rings. She said that they--the rings I mean--should be passed down to a deserving couple, a  _loving_ couple. But Steve if you don't want to, then I can give them back tomorrow and-"

Steve cuts off Bucky's nervous rambling with a kiss, soft and chaste yet perfect in every way.

"Yes, it will always be yes."

Bucky's face lights up with a beaming smile--brighter than any firework--and tears start to stream down his face as well. Bucky shakily takes Steve's frail hand in his own, slipping the silver band onto his ring finger. It almost falls right back off, due to the fact Steve's finger is too lithe for the width of the ring.

Bucky snorts at Steve's predicament, although it doesn't quite have the same affect due to his tear-streaked face. Nevertheless, Steve glares at him in return--adorably if Bucky does say so. Always adorable.

"I had a feeling this might happen," Bucky giggles, reaching back into his pocket, "here." He holds out a dainty silver chain that matches the silver ring still threatening to slip of his finger. After slipping the ring onto the necklace, Bucky gets up behind Steve to latch it into place. He slips back onto the blanket beside Steve to assess his work.

"It looks beautiful," he breaths.

"You look beautiful," Steve throws back lamely, tears still trickling down his face.

Bucky re-laces their hands, as he pulls Steve down on top of his chest.

"I love you, punk."

"I love you, jerk."

***

The sky weeps onto the sea of black umbrellas, and Steve thinks it's poetic.

It has been a week since...

His mother was supposed to be doing better and she had been for a couple days, or at least she said she was. It had been a month that she had been fighting tuberculosis she had picked up from working at the hospital, but she  _had_ been getting better.

That was the only reason Steve had left the apartment, because _she said_ was doing better.

'A quick jaunt to the market' he had thought. 'It's only four blocks away' he had thought. 'I'll be back before she even wakes up'.

He had been in and out of the store in five minutes flat, weaving in between people with the paper bag of groceries clutched to his chest. Ten minutes in all, it had to be a record. He fumbled the key out of his pocket and into the keyhole, swinging the door open.

"Mom, are you up? I went to the store real quick for some of those rolls that you love. Mrs. Hayes even gave me the fresh ones, right out of the oven," he rambled softly to the noiseless apartment as he hung up his coat and took off his shoes. He turned around and it was then that he noticed the heap of blankets on the floor.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. The bag had dropped from his arms, fruit and bread scattered across the hardwood. He had collapsed onto his knees next to the heap and yanked at the blankets until his mother’s form had come into view.

"Mom," he had taken his mother by the shoulders and shook and shook and _shook_...

Tears had started to stream down his face and soaked his shirt, his voice had grown weak and wobbly, but he pulled his mother into his arms and rocked her.

Steve doesn't recall how long he had been sitting on the floor with his mother in his arms when Bucky came through the door. Bucky with his dashing grin, that had fallen off his face as soon as he saw Steve.

"Oh my god, Stevie!"

Bucky had quickly taken in the scene around him; from the scattered groceries to look of utter devastation that had been on his Steve's face and finally to the heap of blankets that laid motionless in his lap. Upon closer inspection, Bucky had noticed the ashen body that laid within the mass of blankets piled on the floor and Steve's lap.

Bucky had instantaneously snapped into action. He had called the police, picked up the groceries, and finally slumped down next to Steve. He had taken one of Steve's hands and put it to his chest, against his heart.

"Breathe with me Stevie," Steve hadn't noticed until Bucky mentioned it, but his breathing was erratic and tears continued to stream down his face. As he had worked on calming his breathing, Bucky gently wiped the tears from his face. He had turned to Bucky and saw that he had his own tears falling down his cheeks. This had only served to make Steve cry harder, and he had buried his face in the crook of Bucky's neck.

A warm hand slipping into his own pulls him back to the present; to the dreary October funeral and the people surrounding the casket yet to be buried in the freshly dug hole. He stands in a sea of black; black umbrellas and black attire and a black mood fill the space. Rain pours down, for the first time this month, and Steve figures it is only right that the sky would mourn the loss of Sarah Rogers as well.

When he glances over he sees Bucky standing resolute beside him. He notices the barely concealed tears and set of Bucky's jaw. Bucky gives his hand a single squeeze before dropping it back to his side and Steve wants--no needs--so desperately to take his hand back, but he knows better. They're in public surrounded by his neighbors, Sarah's friends, their pastor, and Bucky's family. Even though he knows, and god does he _know_ , that too much of this kind of physical contact will draw the wrong type of attention; he needs it right now. He needs Bucky to anchor him and he needs a reminder that he isn't alone.

So, throwing away all of his common sense and the responsibility of keeping them a secret, he grasps his husband's hand. He peers sidelong to discern what Buck's reaction will be, but he continues to stare forward at the casket and cluster of umbrellas that surround them. After a couple long moments Bucky squeezes his hand again, but this time he doesn't let go; instead, he starts to rub small circles on Steve's hand with his thumb.

Steve does his best to not break down, he does his best to not bury himself in Bucky's comforting embrace, and he does his best to not let the dread of the fact that he just lost his whole world creep into his thoughts. 'Not his whole world' he reminds himself, he still has Bucky. He'll always have Bucky.

And if Bucky holds him as he weeps that night, neither ever speak of it.

***

It is seven years later when Steve loses the rest of his world.

Bucky would call him dramatic for thinking that, but they both know the chances of someone returning from the war. Too many people have already received that dreaded letter, the letter informing the recipient that their loved one would never be coming home. Steve fears the day that he will receive his own letter and Bucky hasn't even shipped out yet. In fact, he ships out tomorrow and that is why Steve is currently curled up under a blanket, anxiety-ridden with all the possible scenarios that might happen overseas.

Bucky chooses this moment to breeze through the front door of their apartment, accompanied by a relaxed posture and easy smile. He spots Steve huddled up on the couch and bounds over to him like an excited puppy.

"Aw, lose the frown Stevie, will ya? My last night here, we're gonna do s'mthing fun!" Bucky pushes a newspaper into his chest as he flops onto the couch beside him.

"Where we going?" Steve doesn't mean for it to but his voice comes out flat. It doesn't seem to matter though, because Bucky is just as enthusiastic as he exclaims, "The future!"

Steve scans over the paper that reads: 'World Exposition Tomorrow'.

"The World Exposition," Steve raises his eyebrow at Bucky who just beams back.

"They say that Howard Stark himself will be there, Stevie! And I even heard some whispers about a _flying car_."

Steve scoffs and shakes his head, trust Bucky to get excited about Howard Stark, and he has the audacity to call Steve the nerd!

"Why the bad mood, punk? Need something to make you feel better?" Bucky chides as he slips his hands under the blanket to tickle Steve's sides. When that doesn't earn Bucky the normal shrieks of protest or flush of cheeks he withdraws his hands.

"Hey," he gently tips Steve's chin up, "if you aren't up for a night out we can always stay in."

After a pause, the look of soft concern leaves his face and melts into his signature sly grin accompanied by that gleam in his eyes.

"I can think of a couple other ways to spend our evening," he purrs out.

And boy does that get Bucky the flushed cheeks he was looking for.

"No, no. We can go to your nerd expo, so you can drool all over that Stark guy," Steve pretends he's granting Bucky a huge favor when truthfully he wants to see that car just as badly.

Besides who could say 'no' to a face like that?

***

War changes you.

Steve had always heard that saying, 'War changes you', and disregarded it. He knew that war changed people, but they were still the same person.

The person sitting in the chair next to him isn't  _his_ Bucky.

It's not the fact that this Bucky isn't clean shaven in the way his Bucky unfailingly was. It's not that this Bucky is paler than Steve has ever seen him. Nor is it that he is thinner in a way that just isn't healthy.

It's all of that, but yet it is something  _beyond_ that as well.

It's in the way that Steve can't touch him without him flinching, the wariness that has replaced the gleam that previously was in his eyes, the way he no longer walks with a swagger--with a purpose.

If Steve's being honest, they're both different, but Bucky is... _different._

Steve's changes were physical. He's no longer sick or short or weak. Steve changed and is better for it, healthier for it. Most importantly, Steve _chose_ this, he chose to change into this new version of himself.

Bucky was forced to change, to adapt to...everything that came with fighting in a war.

Steve asks him to fight alongside _Captain America_ , to return to the jaws of death. Bucky says 'no'. In fact, he says 'Hell No'. For just a fleeting moment Steve feels a flood of relief. Because Bucky shouldn't have to go back after all that they had put him through, and hell Steve sure wasn't going to think less of him for staying behind.

So yeah, Steve feels relieved. Finally, he can be the one going out, fighting the good fight, while Bucky stays safe.

So of course, Bucky has to ruin it.

"That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight," Bucky turns to him and plasters on a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, "I'm following him."

Before Steve can respond Bucky throws in a quick snark to distract from the sappiness that just occurred.

"But you're keeping the outfit, right?"

Well, two can play that game, Barnes.

"You know what? It's kind of growing on me."

Before Bucky can make what Steve can only guess would have been a sexual innuendo about his skin-tight suit, Agent Carter saunters up. While Steve must admit that she looks stunning in the form-fitting red dress, he has trouble keeping his eyes off Bucky for the entire duration of the exchange.

Once Agent Carter has briefed Steve about the new equipment and his meeting with Stark in the morning she's on her way, leaving only him and Bucky once again.

Bucky downs the rest of his drink in one go and turns to stare intensely at Steve.

"Wanna get outta here, Doll?" he purrs, and Steve sees a glimpse of his Bucky again.

Lacing their fingers together, Bucky all but drags Steve out of the bar and into the cool night air.

It takes Steve back to that heated November night that wasn't too long ago but seems like a lifetime away. They're not the same two teenagers winding their way through the backstreets of Brooklyn anymore. They've both changed, but they've never been more in love. They stumble into Steve's room, barely remembering to lock the door before hastily stripping.

They forget about the war and the people and the world, and they devote this one night to rediscovering each other.

***

Bucky Barnes is not afraid of heights.

Bucky Barnes is not afraid of heights. Bucky Barnes is not afraid of heights. Bucky Barnes is not afraid of--

If you say it enough it makes it true, right? That's right, he's not afraid. He's terrified. They're way up in the Alps, wind howling around them, preparing to jump. Off a cliff.

Jump.

Off.

A.

Freaking.

Cliff.

Needless to say, Bucky Barnes is a little freaked out. Okay maybe more than a little. But hey, Monty says that its completely safe, so what could go wrong? Monty says it's safe so nothing can go wrong. Nothing can go wrong, because-

"Hey, you all right?" Bucky tries not to, but he flinches. _Stupid_ , his mind supplies. He shouldn't still be so reactive this long after-

_No. Not thinking about that, not right now._

Instead he turns, and its just Steve. Steve who is looking at him, eyes full of concern. And hell if _that_ isn't all wrong, because he's supposed to be the one looking at Steve like that, because he's _always_ been the one to look at Steve like that. And when he used to look at Steve with concern, Steve had always been brave, and if Steve could be brave than so can he.

So, instead of telling Steve the truth--that he's scared, that his chest is feeling a little too tight, that he doesn't want to do this, that...that...that--he does his best to put on a sly smile and says,

"Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?"

A little confused Steve replies, "Yeah, and I threw up?"

Bucky stares down at the snow-covered train tracks, trying desperately to feel brave like Steve had always been. "This isn't payback is it?" He jokes, but his voice is a little too flat. Luckily Steve doesn't seem to notice. "Now why would I do that?" He quips, a smile on his face. Good, Bucky thinks, because if Steve smiles at him like that there isn't anything that he can't accomplish.

Gabe's voice cuts through the millions of thoughts swarming around Bucky's brain threating to make him go insane. Steve walks back towards the other Howlie's, listening intently to whatever information Gabe is relaying. All Bucky can do is look at Steve, because if he's ever going to get through jumping off a cliff he'll need Steve's help to do it. Whether or not Steve is aware of it.

Suddenly Steve is putting on his helmet, and he's looking over at Bucky. Bucky clenches his jaw because it's go time, but he doesn't know if he wants to go. But Frenchie is abruptly handing him a pulley, and Steve has already connected his to the line. Steve's looking at him again, his eyes asking too many questions and not enough. So, Bucky just nods, and he can tell it doesn't convince Steve, but right now it doesn't matter; right now there are bigger concerns.

He jumps after Steve and he doesn't look back, instead, he looks forward at the man that he loves and follows his example.

Be brave Barnes, be brave like Stevie.

***

It wasn't supposed to go like this, it was supposed to be him and Steve. _And_ Steve. Now Steve was in the other car of the train, while he was stuck in this one, all because he had screwed up. Everything had gone wrong because he had screwed up. He should have stuck closer to Steve, but he hadn't and now he was alone.

He has already taken out one of the Hydra goons, that had spontaneously appeared when the doors had slammed shut separating him from his Steve, but there is another one and he has run out of ammunition. He is currently pushed against the wall of the railroad car, and his mind won't stop screaming at him.

 _This is it. This is how you die. Steve is right there, but you didn't stay close enough, so now you're going to die_.

And then, just like a guardian angel answering his prayers, there is Steve. He is slammed up against the door to the railroad car, gun in hand. With a quick once over of Bucky, he gestures with the gun. Bucky quickly, albeit with shaking hands, drops his empty gun and catches the one that Steve tosses his way.

Steve rushes forward, shield first into the shelves of crates, forcing the man out of hiding and into Bucky's line of fire. With a single shot, the brute crumples to a heap on the floor.

Bucky moves towards the man, making sure he is dead because you never can be too sure; especially with Hydra.

"I had him on the ropes," he quips at Steve, although it comes out wearier than he would have liked. Steve replies all the same, "I know you did."

He doesn't even have time to turn his half smile Steve's direction before they are attacked again.

There is a strange sound behind them, like something charging up, and then Steve is shouting.

"GET DOWN!"

Steve blocks the brunt of the blast with his shield, but it still sends him flying across the car and leaves a gaping hole where there used to be a wall. The shield is at Bucky's feet and before he can even think about it, he has the shield in his hand, gun poised to fire at the man who had sent his Stevie into a wall.

He shoots twice, missing both times due to the shaking in his hands and howling in his ears. The man charges up his unusual bazooka-like-weapon again, and then with a big blue flash of light, he finds himself on the outside of the train with only a bar of metal keeping him alive.

He hears Steve throw his shield and the intense clang of its impact into the Hydra thug. The thump of his body dropping to the floor of the railroad car reverberates throughout the train, making Bucky's hands shake where he has a death grip on the metal bar.

Steve emerges at the gaping hole in the side of the train, calling out his name. Bucky can barely hear him over the fierce howling of the wind thrumming in his ears. But then Steve starts to edge his way out onto the bent train wall, and Bucky does his best to inch his way towards Steve while keeping his hands firmly attached to the metal bar.

"Hang on!" Steve shouts, and Bucky desperately wants to make a snide comment back to lighten the mood, but all he can focus on is holding on. Holding on, because Steve told him to. And Steve is looking at him with that stupid determination and hope in his eyes, and if he's being honest he's never been one to let Steve down. So, he holds on and waits for Steve to rescue him.

Steve is talking again, "Grab my hand," and he's reaching towards Bucky with his gloved hand in that ridiculous Captain America outfit. The metal creaks, threatening to give up on Steve's demand to hold on, but Bucky is so close, and he has no intention of ever giving up on Steve.

He reaches for Steve's hand, but the metal rod breaks and--

***

The year is 1944, and Bucky Barnes falls for a boy with golden hair and eyes full of hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> This is my first time posting something that I have written, so I hope you like it. : )  
> All comments, questions, and constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
